The Siren's Song
by Sable Supernova
Summary: Minerva McGonagall lets her hair down and goes for a quite drink when a young man in a leather jacket slides into the chair opposite her. One-shot. Not necessarily canon compliant.


Written for The Awkward Moments Competition, for the prompts: Minerva McGonogall, Dobby, Scenario: That awkward moment when you're caught making the walk of shame in the wee hours of the morning with your shoes in your hand and messed up sex hair.

Bonus Prompts: Word: Feathers - Phrase: "Just smile and wave, [insert name here] - Song: R.I.P by Rita Ora - Setting: The Leaky Cauldron - Word: Beguiled

Also known as: Hopefully the last time ever Minerva McGonagall and Rita Ora are uttered in the same sentence.

* * *

 **The Siren's Song**

 _(In which Minerva McGonogall lets her hair down. Literally.)_

Through a ginnel that leads away from Diagon Alley, there are no street lights. Wind howls through the narrow street as a broken drain drips, drips, drips onto the cobblestones. Strangers stagger in silence, faces shaded from recognition. Hider Way is not a place one visits to be recognised.

A woman squeezes past a drunken couple with her hood pulled up, her cloak wrapped tight around her, grasped by thin fingers between her clavicles. She makes her way past the inns and hostels, leaving the raucous of the shopping centre long behind, and pushes open the door of The Siren's Song.

Inside, everyone sits alone. No one looks up as she enters but the landlord, stood behind the bar reading a newspaper. The sunlight shining outside does not reach the dank and dusty interior. The woman orders a double, straight, and no one questions it.

Taking a seat in the corner, she lets down her hood, revealing long, chocolate locks falling gracefully from her head. It's only late afternoon, but as she sighs, she knows it will be many hours before she leaves.

Today, she is not Minerva McGonogall. She is not the woman still in love with a dead man, fighting off propositions from her former boss, world weary and disenchanted. Today, that life belongs to someone else.

She loses herself in the drink, the burn in the back of her throat, lost somewhere between respect and duty, passion and peace, excitement and contentment. She hardly notices when the chair opposite her is pulled out, and a young man with a leather jacket and a strange look in his eye slides into the space.

"This is one of the last places I'd expect to find you," he says as she recognises him. A former student and recent member of the Order of the Phoenix, Sirius Black stares with amusement and intrigue.

Minerva smiles back. "But you didn't find me here. I'm not her today. Tomorrow, I'll wake up as Minerva McGonagall. Today, I'm Minnie. The girl I used to be. Before.," she tells him, and wonders if the drink has already had an effect. It had been a while since she last touched a drop, she conceded.

She was also very certain it was well deserved.

"Then I must apologise. Good afternoon - or is it evening? - Sirius Black, at your pleasure," he replied, holding a hand out across the sticky table for her to shake, as custom dictated.

She took it with a smirk. "It's very nice to meet you," Minnie said.

Pleasantries were then exchanged, with an air of sarcasm, as they acted as though this was a very first meeting between two strangers. Drinks were ordered, followed by more drinks, and soon they were laughing along to some joke that they both knew would not seem funny tomorrow.

"Minnie, I must say, you're a rather beautiful woman," Sirius commented with a smile and an intense eye. Minnie knew the game he was playing; he'd played it a million times before. He'd beguiled her before, but she'd never let him know. Instead, she'd admonished him for it in the past or brushed his comments off as childish teasing, but today, she was ready for him.

"Why, thank you. I suppose you're rather easy on the eye yourself," she told him. He was visibly taken aback, his eyes widening as his shoulders backed up just a little. She understood. All his life, he'd known Professor McGonagall, and she was not lying when she'd said that she was dead today.

Sirius Black had never met Minnie.

Minnie was sick of rules and regulations, decorum and obligations. Minnie was fed up with rationalisation and carefully thought out plans. Minnie had not lain with a man for too long, and Sirius Black had already proven himself willing.

She took advantage of the silence of his shock. "It's getting late; I ought to be on my way home," she began, casually dragging a finger around the rim of her empty tumbler. "But I can hardly return to the castle in my current state." She let the rest of the thought go unsaid as Sirius gulped, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Well, I am renting a room at the Leaky Cauldron tonight," he told her, and Minnie didn't even care enough to ask why.

"That sounds perfect," she said.

* * *

After closing the door of the guest room at the Leaky Cauldron, she pushed him down onto the four poster bed, making short work of the situation. Desire lidded his eyes as she began to unlace her dress, wanting him in her Firewhiskey haze.

Naked, she crawled onto him, kissing his lips, his neck, his shoulders. He didn't push her off; he didn't try to take control. He knew that tonight he was hers as he watched her hands tug at his t-shirt. He did not need telling twice.

* * *

She had not been lying when she'd said that today, she would be Minerva McGonagall once more. She woke early, very early, with a dry throat and a pounding head. Noting that that day had not yet broken and darkness still clung to the sky outside of the window, she fought against the sleep to pull herself to standing, feeling more than a little embarrassed when her feet met with fallen feathers.

She dressed quickly, searching for her wand, looking back at the bed only to ensure Sirius Black was still asleep. He was snoring lightly, his chest exposed, and she felt a slight blush creep into her cheeks. Making for the door, she paused for only a second, terrified of the thought of meeting someone she knew. The Leaky Cauldron was no strange place to anyone, after all, and it was a busy place: it could not be presumed that guests and patrons were not wandering the corridors. Bringing her hand up to her hair in an attempt to fix it, she breathed in a sigh as her fingers met with resistance from tangles and knots. She would fix it at home, she decided. She just had to get there first.

 _If you see anyone you know,_ she told herself as she turned the handle, _just smile and wave, Minerva. Just smile and wave._

As she stepped out into the corridor, she was met with an audible gasp of shock, and scoured the corridor for its source, finding a face in front of her just a few feet from the ground. It was a house elf, one she would recognise anywhere, and one that belonged to a man who could not hear of this lest she lose her job.

"Dobby," she said, by way of introduction.

"I'm sorry, Professor McGonogall, ma'am. Dobby was going to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water for Master Malfoy, Miss," the elf explained, unable to hold her eye. The poor creature was panicking, nervous.

"It's okay, Dobby. You didn't see me, okay?" she said, turning her statement into a question as she hoped to make sure he understood her meaning.

"But Dobby did, Miss, and Dobby can't lie to Master," Dobby replied, sounding confused and torn between two ideals.

"It isn't lying, Dobby. You're just omitting a fact, and if Lucius never finds out, if you never tell him, he'll never know," she told him, smiling, knowing she was desperately relying on a technicality.

It was a half-expected surprise when the elf ran into the wall, hitting his head and bouncing to the floor.

"Professor McGonagall is a kind woman, and though it pains Dobby, he will do this for her and not tell Master," the elf replied, remembering the time she had given him a lemon sherbert as he forced his head into the carpet over the hard stone floor. Minerva rushed out to stop him, placing a restraining hand on his forehead.

"Thank you, Dobby," she replied, and the house elf left with a nod.

Minerva sighed once more before continuing her departure, knowing that the word of a house elf would have to do. Only Dobby's silence could save her dignity and reputation.

Knowing that was a price she had not bargained for, she decided it was probably a wise course of action to remember she was Minerva McGonagall every day.

* * *

 **So... let me know what you think! :) I know Minnie is a little OOC, but hopefully it's explained well enough!**


End file.
